Serendipity
by Patricia Sage
Summary: Blaine's lost in Hogwarts Castle, and it's past curfew. He's just trying to find his way back to the Gryffindor common rooms. Until he runs into Kurt, a Slytherin. And why is he wandering so late at night, anyway? Hogwarts!Klaine.


**Serendipity**

**Author's Note: Yes…I have jumped on the Hogwarts!Klaine express. :P I know there are a million of these out there, but I really wanted to add mine to the mix. If you need a time period in the Harry Potter universe, picture it as before Harry went to school. I hope you guys like it!**

**Blaine POV**

It's passed curfew and I'm not in the dormitories. I'm far from the dormitories, actually.

I'm gonna die.

If Filch catches me out here, I don't know what he'll do. He's never had much to do with me before, but it only takes once. Plus, he's always muttering about torturing students…and I don't want to tempt him.

I slip and fall, nearly bashing my face into a pillar. I swear, scrambling to my knees. Where am I, anyway? I look around, aching for a familiar landmark. From what I can tell, I'm closer to the Slytherin common room than the Gryffindor one. Great, that's just what I need; either getting caught by a disapproving teacher or someone from a House that hates mine.

It's only a month into my first year at Hogwarts and I really don't want to get into trouble. If my dad finds out, he'll be even more disappointed in me than he already is. I originally attended the Durmstrang Institute for three years, but I was hurt and threatened constantly by the other students, especially in the Dark Arts classes, and somehow my mother found out about it. She immediately organized for me to come to Hogwarts, which is known for its safety and protection of its students.

My dad didn't like that. He had graduated from Durmstrang, as had his father, and his father before him. And now Blaine the Disappointment has to go and ruin the family legacy. Truthfully, I don't really care. Durmstrang was terrible to me. The only thing it taught me was how to fight back. But here at Hogwarts I have friends, for the first time in my life.

I'm in everything with the Fourth Year students here, but I have the experience of a First Year. Which is why I can't find my way around the castle yet. But, besides my lack in navigation skills, Hogwarts has been wonderful to me and I don't regret my transfer here at all.

As I get up and dust off my robes, I wonder if Wes and David are worring about where I am. This isn't the first time I've gotten lost, but it is the first time I've gotten lost past curfew. I start to walk briskly again, trying to muffle my footsteps. I have a faint idea where I am, but no clue how to get to the Gryffindor dormitories from here. And I'm pretty sure I'm actually walking in the total wrong direction.

Just before I turn around to try my luck in another route, I hear a noise that makes me freeze in alarm. I hurry to hide in the doorway of a closed classroom. Somebody's up ahead of me! _Please don't be Filch, please don't be Snape, please don't be— _My thought-rambling stops at the same time that my breathing does. With a swish of robes, the unidentified person rushes past me. However, they have their hands partially over their face and they don't look in my direction at all, just keep walking swiftly past.

I really should wait for the mystery student—for it is a student, that's the only thing I can tell—to get far enough away for me to quietly keep wandering in the direction I was headed. However, something stops me from doing so and takes a hold of me like a spell. Instead, I find myself stepping out of the doorway…and walking in the other direction, towards the person.

"Hey!" I call out, ignoring the voice in my head shouting, _what are you doing? Just get back to your dormitories!_

The person, only a couple meters ahead of me, turns around quickly to freeze and stare in alarm. I stare right back.

It's a boy. He looks to be about my age, with chestnut-brown hair and the most stunning blue/green eyes I have ever seen. Those eyes are red-rimmed above faint tear-tracks, and are wide in panic.

"Hey, it's okay." I say softly, because we're still out past curfew and I don't want anyone waking up and getting us both in trouble.

"What do you want?" He whispers back, and his voice is like wind chimes. I notice him glance down at my robes, at my red and gold tie, and I analyse his in return. He's a Slytherin. _Shit. _ I was told by all my Gryffindor friends to stay away from them. But this boy doesn't seem like he's going to give me trouble. He looks…painfully vulnerable.

"I don't want any trouble, I swear!" I tell him, "I'm just…I'm kind of lost." My hands out at my sides and my sheepish tone of voice seem to re-assure him. He doesn't relax completely, but he doesn't move away as I approach him.

He holds me in a steady gaze that I can't seem to look away from. "I'm Blaine." I say as I get close enough to him for us to talk like normal people. I offer my hand, but he doesn't shake it. In fact, he buries his hands in the pockets of his robes, almost self-consciously. He's still very tense.

"Kurt." He mutters.

"Um…" I try to fight my way through the tension in the conversation, "So, why are you out past curfew?"

He looks down at his feet, "Um…I…" I can tell that he's debating the pros and cons of talking to me. "I don't want to be in the dormitories right now," he says finally.

He doesn't seem like he's going to elaborate, and I know that I should quickly ask him for directions and then leave. But I don't want to. I want to know more about him.

"Here, why don't we sit down?" I ask, gesturing to a bench that's placed in front of one of the tapestries in the hallway.

Kurt looks at me with those _eyes_, then at the bench, then back to me. He's clearly wondering why I want to sit and have a conversation at this time of night, in this place, with this person. Then, he sighs, "Come on," he says, gesturing to me with a jerk of his head. His hands stay in his pockets. "You want to talk? Let's go somewhere we're less likely to be spotted." Then, he walks away.

I stand still for a couple of seconds, then scurry to catch up.

"Where are we going?"

He glances over at me and I'm happy to see that he doesn't seem too threatened by me anymore.

He doesn't trust me yet, but that's okay.

I'm not sure why I'm so desperate for his company, anyway.

"We're almost there," he says, "Calm down." I blush.

After a few more meters of walking, we come to an arch which Kurt pokes his head around. "All clear," he says over his shoulder, then walks out. I follow.

He leads me out into a small courtyard. It's sheltered by stone, but there is nothing close to a roof over our heads. Thankfully, it's a peaceful night, interrupted only by an occasional whisper of a light breeze and the answering mutter of the rustle of leaves. A couple trees sprout from cracks in the stone beneath our feet and I'm startled by a raven taking flight at our arrival.

"Wow," I say, "I don't think I've been here before…"

"Really?" Kurt asks, settling himself down on a bench beside a tree the colour of ashes. "This is your what, third year? And you've never been here. Do you have a memory thing? Is that why you're lost?"

My face heats up again. "I'm a Fourth Year, actually," I say, shuffling my feet, "But I only started going to Hogwarts this year." He raises his eyebrows. "I used to go to Durmstrang."

"Oh," he says, and he's perceptive because he drops the subject. "Well, sit down."

I comply, sitting as close to him as I dare. "So, um, how long have you been at Hogwarts?"

"I'm a Fourth Year as well."

"Oh," I say, not sure why I'm happy about the news, "It's weird that we haven't really seen each-other before…"

He buries his hands deeper in his pockets, "Not really. I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor. Why would we interact?"

"Right," I mutter, biting my lip and outlining random shapes on the leg of my trousers.

I can feel his eyes on me. "But, I have seen you before," he states, startling me, "At the Quidditch matches. You commentate, right?"

"Yeah," I grin, "I didn't make the tryouts for the team, but I love the sport, so…it's close enough, you know?" It's pretty much my favorite pastime, actually. The complex sport, the huge cheering crowd, a microphone in my hands.

"You're very good." I blush, again.

"Thanks." He smiles at me softly and I can't look away. "You know, you're really nice, I mean, for a— um…never mind." I curse my mouth for letting those words out.

Kurt raises his eyebrows at me, "For a Slytherin," he completes my sentence. There's a slight sharpness to his tone, but he doesn't seem to be attacking me and I'm glad. He sighs, "You know, people hear _Slytherin _and they think _evil_. It's not true. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't mean _Pureblood_, either. The traits of a Slytherin are ambition, cunning and resourcefulness."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, I promise. It just slipped out."

He lets out a breath through his nose, "It's alright, Blaine." That's the first time he's spoken my name and I feel light-headed.

What is wrong with me?

Suddenly, a breeze, stronger than the rest, fights through the orange leaves, forcing a couple down off their branches. Some of them fall on Kurt, landing on the back of his neck. He instinctively reaches up to brush them off and I gasp.

"What happened to your hands?" I reach out for him, but he flinches away and there's an ache in my chest. "Please, Kurt, just let me… I'm not going to hurt you, I swear."

Kurt's eyes run over my face as he holds his hands to his chest protectively, then he slowly extends them to me, looking like he could pull back any second. I am careful not to make any sudden movements that could startle him or make him think I'm going to hurt him. Cradling his hands in my own, I marvel at the delicate bones of his knuckles. His skin would be pale like his face and neck, which I can see, but his hands aren't.

Marring his flawless skin is an array of painful-looking burns. Being as gentle as I can, I slowly push back the sleeves of his robes to see that the terrible redness traveles in splotches all the way up to his elbows. "Oh, _Kurt_," I whisper, "What happened?"

Kurt's nervously looking from his hands, to me, to the air around us. "I'm sure it will wear off in a couple hours… Th-the spell was supposed to hit my face, but I brought my arms up to protect it, and…"

"Wait," I look up at him in horror, not moving my hands, "Somebody _did_ _this _to you?" I run my fingers lightly over the burns, carefully watching to see if Kurt makes any indication of pain. Suddenly, I realize that they aren't just random splotches. I tilt my head and see that they spell a word. From elbow to wrist, the word _MUDBLOOD _is branded on his arm in angry red.

I fight to keep my grip gentle on his arms, feeling an unmistakable rage bubble up within me. I look into his watering eyes. "Kurt, who did this to you?" I snarl, "I'll kill them."

His breath shudders and, for one terrible moment, I think he's afraid of me. Then, he puts his hand over mine and grips it firmly. "You know why we never see each-other, Blaine?" he whispers, fixing his gaze on our hands. "In all the classes we have together, I sit at the back of the room so that they can't throw things or send enchanted objects at me. I don't eat lunch in the Great Hall. I don't attend Quidditch games because they trap me under the bleachers…I just listen to your voice from the clock tower." He glances away from me again, "The reason I'm out here right now…the reason I'm out here almost every night…is because they pull pranks on me in the dormitories as well."

"This isn't a prank, Kurt, this is so much worse." I fight to keep myself from shedding a tear as well, but the anger is still simmering under my skin. "Who are they? How could they do this? How could they get _away_ with it?"

He pulls his arms gently away from me and rolls the sleeves back down. "A couple of boys from my House. They're pompous kids from old Pureblood families. They're smart about how they go about it, and the teachers who do notice turn a blind eye."

"Oh, Kurt," I breathe, reaching out on impulse to pull him towards me. He stiffens under my touch, like he wasn't expecting it, then hesitantly hugs me back. I simply hold him close until he relaxes enough to bury his face in my shoulder. "You're not alone," I say into his hair, "I'm gonna look out for you, from now on, okay? Whenever I can."

I pull away from him, gently touching his face. "Now, since I have no idea where I am, I need you to lead me to the seventh floor."

"The seventh floor? Why?"

"You need somewhere safe to sleep, right?" I ask, and he nods, but his brow is wrinkled in confusion. "Just trust me," I smile at him.

He doesn't answer, just takes my hand and interlaces our fingers before he tugs me off into the corridors.

When we reach our destination, I start to recognize where we are. I turn into the left corridor and then face the blank wall across from a tapestry. I reluctantly let go of Kurt's hand and I'm aware of him watching me closely as I pace in front of the wall three times. _ I need a place for Kurt to sleep. A place that no one who wants to hurt him can enter. A place where he can feel safe._

I stop walking and the door appears. "What is this?" Kurt asks, coming up beside me.

I take his hand gently one more. "It's called the Room of Requirement. It changes to accommodate anything you need. You can sleep here."

His mesmerizing eyes look from the door back to me. "Thank you, Blaine," he whispers.

"You're welcome."

And then I'm trapped in his eyes.

And then I'm leaning forward.

And then he's moving too.

And then we kiss.

I've never kissed anyone before. And, from the way Kurt gasps, I don't think he has either.

It's perfect.

We pull apart and I look into the galaxies he has for eyes. "Goodnight, Kurt."

He blushes, "Goodnight, Blaine. I'll see you later?"

"Definitely."

**Author's Second Note: Well…that one kind of wrote itself. What did you think?**

**Take care.**

**-Patricia Sage**


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